14. Birthday

Harry stood outside Ginny’s closed bedroom door. He was thinking rapidly over the conversation they had earlier and trying desperately to figure out which bit to apologise for. Giving up he knocked quietly on the door.

“Come in.” Harry pushed the door open slowly and stuck his head around the edge of the door. Ginny was sitting at the window, resting her elbows on the windowsill, her chin on her hands. There was a candle nearby and the light reflected off her hair making it give off a reddish glow. Though he could not see her face he remained transfixed as he studied her slender form and curves, highlighted by the soft glow of the candle.

“You can come in, Harry,” she said without turning around.

“How’d you know it was me?” Harry slipped inside and closed the door with a soft click.

“Your smell,” she replied as she turned around. “You smell different to the other boys here and Hermione doesn’t knock.”

“Oh,” he paused before blurting, “I can smell you in Amortentia.” He felt rather foolish after he said that and Ginny tilted her head to one side and studied him carefully.

“Hermione can smell Ron, you know. His hair,” she replied conversationally. He nodded dumbly. “I’ve never smelled it.” She stood up and stepped slowly towards him. “But you smell like wood, like broomsticks and sunshine. What do I smell like?” She was standing right in front of him now, her head tilted back, her neck exposed. He could see the pulse beating in her neck and the rise and fall of her chest as she stood otherwise motionless waiting for him to speak.

“Like flowers,” he whispered, afraid to break the spell she was weaving over him. “Like flowers and like home.” He crossed the short distance between them slowly and reached out to take her hand in his. Ginny looked down at their joined hands before looking up into his eyes. Harry was mesmerised and lifted his other hand to caress her cheek before trailing it down the back of her neck. His fingers felt like they were on fire. Ginny shuddered as her eyes slid shut.

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered as his hand moved down her back. “I don’t want to fight.”

“We’re not,” murmured Ginny as she opened her eyes to look deep into his own. Involuntarily the hand on Ginny’s back pulled Ginny towards him as he gazed down at her. He broke her gaze, his eyes flickering down to her lips and when he looked back up he saw that her own eyes were on his lips and he licked them nervously.

“I didn’t see you all afternoon,” said Harry quietly. “I didn’t mean to argue with you. I never got used to the idea that people think I’m a powerful wizard. I’m just Harry.” Her eyes were still on his lips as he spoke. Harry wasn’t at all sure that she meant to speak the next words aloud.

“Well you certainly have a power over me,” before she leaned in and captured the lips she had been staring at hungrily, in a searing kiss. Harry felt all the worry that he’d been feeling all afternoon lift from his shoulders. He lost himself in the kiss and the feel of her lips on his. He was startled when Ginny’s tongue darted out and begged for entrance to his own mouth, she normally waited for his request. Willingly he parted his lips and as Ginny’s tongue began playing with his own and he felt it run along his teeth he was suddenly overwhelmed by her and the need that he felt coming from deep inside him. It was powerful and scary and wonderful all at the same time.

Somehow, he didn’t know how, Ginny had backed him into the door and as his hands tangled in her hair he felt her body pressing into his as she explored his mouth. The involuntary reaction of his body did nothing to slow her down. While Harry was acutely embarrassed and tried to pull away it seemed to only make Ginny press herself against him further. Harry gave himself up to her and when Ginny made a little noise in the back of her throat he found himself pressing her against the door, something which she did not protest in the slightest.

Ginny had one arm around his neck and the other resting on his chest as Harry’s hands skimmed her hips and upper thighs as they continued to kiss heatedly. Only a thumping on the other side of the door broke through and cooled them down. Harry broke off the kiss, breathing raggedly as he heard Ron shouting.

“You’ve had enough time to make up! Get down into the kitchen for some hot chocolate!” he called. Ginny giggled breathlessly and, now that the spell was broken, Harry flushed with embarrassment and tried to pull away from Ginny hurriedly. There was an evil gleam in her eye as she grabbed his waist, pinning him to her.

“I don’t mind,” she said, looking up at him. “I think it’s sort of … sexy.” Harry blushed harder but Ginny seemed unbearably unflappable. Letting go of his waist Ginny placed two small hands on his cheeks and forced him to look at her.

“It’s okay, I love you,” she whispered. Suddenly a sly grin stole over her features. “And I thought you wanted to share everything with me?”

“That’s, that’s …” Harry paused, she was turning his words against him now. He pulled her roughly against him and growled in her ear. “That’s sneaky Miss Weasley.” She pulled back a little and looked at him seriously.

“I mean it Harry, I don’t mind. I’d be honoured to share that with you,” she lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’d love to share that with you.” Harry’s heart skipped a beat as he watched her, eyes sparkling, lips swollen and face just a little flushed from her admission.

“Me too,” his voice was barely a whisper. “But not now, not yet.” She nodded, understanding him perfectly. Not now, not yet, but some day. Harry kissed her again, softly, gently this time and she sighed against his mouth. They didn’t bother to straighten out or tidy themselves up a bit before heading down for hot chocolate.

********************

Harry claimed Snape’s body the next day and he and most of the Order attended his burial next to Dumbledore on Hogwarts school grounds two days later.

“I didn’t know the true Severus Snape all this time. The man he showed me, the one he showed most people isn’t who he really was. He put himself on the line, all these years, protecting me … I thought he was trying to kill me,” said Harry as he smiled wryly, a ripple of quiet laughter went up. “This man was one of the bravest, most loyal people I have known. He loved my mother, always until he died. I thought about burying him near her, where he’d want to be, but I figured my dad might have a few words with me about that and make my eternity miserable. But he belongs here anyway, with Professor Dumbledore who was the only one who really knew him, knew who he was.” Harry paused. The Giant Squid splashed lazily and Harry heard Fang bark.

“No one should be forgotten.” Later when he stood contemplating the headstone he realised George had joined him.

“Getting to be a habit of ours,” said George, only half smiling. “What are we going to put on the bottom of his?” Harry contemplated for a moment before inscribing, at the bottom of the headstone,

’Where dwell the brave at heart’

He contemplated the words for a long time, knowing now they did not refer only to Gryffindor House. He turned to find George several feet away with a mischievous gleam in his eye. Hurrying over to Dumbledore’s tomb Harry watched as George added an epitaph to the white monolith. In the bottom right hand corner he carved in small neat lettering

‘Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!’

*************

The rest of July was spent aimlessly. Sleeping late (rewarded by having to degnome the garden if they did it too many mornings in a row), going to see Teddy (who could almost roll over), visiting friends (and being visited by lovestruck mates and their dotty girlfriends) and playing Quidditch (with bewitched apples in the orchard). One day, shortly before Harry’s birthday, Dean and Luna and Neville and Parvarti had dropped by and Harry and Ginny were sitting in the garden with them when Ron returned from Diagon Alley. He flopped down ungracefully beside them.

“What’re we talking about today?” he asked. “Or are we snogging, today?”

“Do we look like we’re snogging, Ron?” demanded Ginny.

“Not at the minute but you two always look like you’ve just been snogging.”

“They were snogging when we got here,” piped up Dean helpfully. Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. “Not that there is anything at all, in the slightest wrong with that course of action at all, ever, in fact Ginny should just really snog whoever, whenever she feels the er, absolute need.”

“Oi, what’s with the whoever?” grumbled Harry. Ron shuddered.

“I did not need that image, thanks, Dean.”

“Oh, anytime, mate, anytime,” Dean waved his hand airily before muttering something that sounded like ‘payback’ under his breath. Ron glared at him.

“I was scarred for life, I’ll have you know! I reacted perfectly sanely if you understood my personal situation at the time!”

“What, the pining over Hermione situation?” scoffed Ginny. Harry groaned and flopped back on the grass. Neville looked puzzled.

“You just made that worse,” growled Ron, stabbing a finger in the air in her general direction. Dean was watching Ginny and Ron apprehensively.

“Just stop it,” groaned Harry. “We do not need to hear an entire Weasley family kissing history again!” The others looked at Harry curiously as Ron and Ginny blushed. Neville timidly ventured a question about what that could possibly mean.

“Ah yes, ‘tis a time honoured sibling tradition. Catch your sister snogging her boyfriend, express outrage and threaten to decapitate said boyfriend. She returns in kind by mocking your lack of romantic prowess in front of his best mate,” Dean nodded sagely, trying to conceal a grin.

“I never threatened to decapitate you. Stop being so dramatic,” retorted Ron. “You left pretty smartly as I recall,” he finished smugly.

“Must we go over this?” asked Harry, disgruntled. “We do not need to rehash old ground.”

“Scared they’ll start on you next, Harry?” asked Parvati pointedly.

“I did not save the world to be mocked about failed teenage romances,” muttered Harry.

“Well, you’re the one who described his first snog as ‘wet’!” laughed Ron. Parvati, Neville and Dean burst out laughing.

“She was crying!” said Harry exasperatedly and he closed his eyes to shut out the sight of his friends falling about laughing. Luna looked at him thoughtfully.

“Are you that bad a kisser, Harry?” Harry opened one eye and glared at her.

“No, I am not!”

“Woeful dancer though.”

“Thanks a bunch, Parvati.”

“Anytime.”

“I think the Yule Ball was the worst night of my life,” moaned Ron. Parvati muttered that it wasn’t his finest moment and Harry shuddered. Parvati threw grass at him.

“First dates, hey?” said Ron. “Good times, good times …”

“Are you mental? There was nothing good about our first dates, Ron!” exclaimed Harry. Parvati threw more grass at him … and several small twigs.

“Mine was alright,” said Neville looking dreamily at the sky until Ginny stepped on his foot. He started guiltily. Ginny laughed.

“I still have my feet, it’s okay, although I’ll have you know, I could have gone with Harry,” she pretended to swoon and then giggled.

“You would have had a shocking time, it would have turned you off me for good,” said Harry. Parvati nodded emphatically and threw another handful of twigs at his head. “I was fourteen and not into girls at all.” Neville, Dean and Ron were all overcome with a coughing fit that sounded suspiciously like ‘Cho’.

“Oh look, Ginny’s little hackles rise when you say Cho!” crowed Ron. He began repeating it in a sing song voice while Ginny growled at him. “Oooh I wonder if it works on Harry too … Michael … Dean …” Harry had fallen about laughing helplessly and Ron stopped because Ginny had narrowed her eyes at him in a menacing fashion.

“Lavender …” she hissed. Ron went pale. Dean and Neville joined Harry in helpless laughter as Ron spluttered before going silent.

As the playful banter wove back and forth under the glorious summer sky Harry contemplated that in actual fact this was exactly what he had saved the world for.

******************

“What will we do for your birthday, Harry?” asked Mrs Weasley at breakfast the day before he turned eighteen. Harry shrugged.

“Let’s have a party!” crowed George from his seat next to Harry. “It’s been ages since we had a birthday party at The Burrow!”

“It’s a bit short notice, George dear,” said Mrs Weasley, frowning.

“No it’s not!” said George.

“It’s tomorrow, dear,” said Mrs Weasley. “How would you let everyone know – what if they’re busy?”

“Ha! This is Harry, mum! No one’s going to be ‘too busy’! I ask you…” he trailed off as he began to turn out his pockets. He obviously found what he was looking for amidst the Ton Tongue Toffees, squashed packet of Canary Creams and what looked like six pairs of Extendable Ears. “Here we are! No problem, you put the Weasley twins on the case and you get results!” His mother froze as George held his DA Galleon aloft. As he looked at it George seemed to realise what he had said. He hurriedly shoved the mess on the table back into his pockets and laid the coin on the table. Stabbing it viciously with his wand he attempted to charm it to reveal details for Harry’s party. His hand was shaking and the spell didn’t seem to work and he only managed to turn the Galleon a very unbecoming shade of green.

Suddenly he threw the wand across the kitchen and it narrowly missed Hermione’s head as she came down for breakfast. Nobody moved except George who dropped his head into his hands.

“I keep picking up stupid Fred’s stupid wand,” he cried. “I keep forgetting I’m not twins anymore. I wore the ‘F’ jumper yesterday and no one said anything. It’s like he wasn’t ever even here …” Mrs Weasley sat down heavily and burst into tears. Ron, who had been silent the whole exchange, went over to his mother and wordlessly gathered her into an embrace. George sat staring at the DA Galleon and Hermione moved over and put her hand on his.

“What were you trying to charm it to say, George?” she asked softly.

“Harry’s Birthday party, tomorrow,” he said quietly. Hermione charmed the Galleon to invite anyone who had one to come to The Burrow for Harry’s birthday the next day and then George broke down. Harry and Hermione put their arms around him at the same time and just held him as he cried.

It was a quiet day at The Burrow. George, for the first time seemed reluctant to remain in his room all day and he sat in the living room answering anyone who tried to engage him in conversation with monosyllables.

“Why does he sit down here like he wants company if he doesn’t talk to anyone?” wondered Harry as he, Ginny, Ron and Hermione ate lunch in the kitchen.

“I don’t think he wants company really,” said Hermione thoughtfully. “He’s been looking at that baby picture a lot, the one of him and Fred.” Harry jumped up.

“That’s brilliant,” he breathed. “I’ll be back!” He hurried to the fireplace and throwing some Floo powder in called, “Diagon Alley!”

When Harry actually arrived in Diagon Alley he began to regret his hasty decision to go there alone, without his Cloak. The place was packed with witches and wizards and he suddenly realised that he’d likely be recognized within minutes. Flattening his fringe over his scar and keeping his head down he made it to Fortescue’s store. Ducking inside he beckoned the man over. He’d been kind to him before third year, perhaps he’d remember him.

Oh who was he kidding, he didn’t need to be remembered. Harry mentally rolled his eyes at himself. He did manage to leave Fortescue’s within ten minutes, wearing a borrowed wide brimmed wizarding hat that was a rather violent shade of red but it covered his scar and the brim hid his face and he walked up the steps of Gringotts in it unemcumbered. Now that he was here, he had no way of finding Bill, he realised. Stepping up to the nearest teller he explained that he wanted to see Bill or Fleur Weasley but the goblins seemed singularly uninterested in helping him. In exasperation he took the hat off and wiped his brow. The protuberant eyes on the goblin in front of him looked as if they would pop out of his head all together when he realised who Harry was. After a twenty minute lecture on breaking into Gringotts and stealing dragons Harry was delivered to Bill Weasley in a cart that travelled more swiftly than was necessary.

Understanding Harry’s request Bill told Harry to warn his mother to expect him and Fleur for dinner that night. Harry crammed the ridiculous hat back on his head and made his way back to the Leaky Cauldron to Floo back home.

He would not be drawn on where he had been or what he had been up to. George studied him briefly when he poked his head into the living room and bluntly asked him if he was trying to blend in with that abominable hat, whereupon Harry shoved it on Hermione’s head, pulling it over her eyes while she was engrossed in a book.

“You’ve got a mischievous streak there, Potter,” said George with admiration in his voice.

“I learned from the best, George. I learned mischief from the best,” and George and Harry shared a quiet grin.

Mrs Weasley turned out to be extremely pleased that Bill and Fleur would be there for dinner and added several dishes to the massive amounts of food she was turning out for Harry’s birthday party. Bill and Fleur arrived carrying a rather large parcel. It was covered in brown paper and beyond saying it wasn’t Harry’s birthday present they refused to say what it was.

When they’d all eaten their fill and the dishes had been cleared away Bill asked everyone to go into the living room. He followed them with the large parcel. Taking a slightly smaller one from the pocket of his cloak he handed it to George and the larger one to his parents.

“We thought you would like these,” he said simply and everyone in the room knew he meant him and Harry, not him and Fleur. Slowly George unwrapped the parcel in his hand as Mrs Weasley tore the paper off the larger one. Inside was a framed photograph, taken at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. The twins in their dress robes stood laughing at the camera. They watched as photo George poked his finger in photo Fred’s ear and Fred attempted to reciprocate before George affected great injury to his missing ear. The two of them flung their arms around each other’s shoulders and waved at the camera.

A lone tear dripped down George’s cheek, splashing on the glass as he watched the photo. Mrs Weasley reached out to touch the laughing image of Fred solemnly.

“It’s the last one we had taken together,” said George quietly. Bill nodded.

“That one’s for you. The other one’s for in here.”

“Oh Bill, it’s wonderful. Thank you,” murmured Mrs Weasley.

“It was Harry’s idea,” said Bill. “He would have done it if not for the fact the photos were at my place and his ridiculous and conspicuous headwear.”

“Even without headwear he’s ridiculous and conspicuous,” said George. Everyone started laughing and Mr Weasley hung the photograph in pride of place on the living room wall.

“How did you know, Harry?” asked Hermione. “How did you know that would help?” Silently Harry made his way up the stairs and returned a few moments later with a small photo frame that he handed to Hermione.

“Oh,” she said softly as she watched James and Lily Potter waving at the camera from a snowy Hogsmeade street.

******************

Harry awoke the next morning because of a pillow to the head.

“Wake up birthday boy!” yelled Ron several decibels louder than necessary.

“Shuddup,” Harry mumbled as he buried his head under his pillow. Ron jumped on top of him then.

“Geddup! Geddup! Geddup! You should have been down ages ago!” he yelled bouncing up and down on top of Harry. Harry pulled his head out from under the pillow and glared at him.

“Just how old are you, Ron?” he yawned. “Anyone would think it’s your birthday – or Christmas, the way you’re carrying on!” Ron jumped off the bed and hauled back the covers, pulling on his arm.

“All right, All right, I’m coming!” Harry managed to pull on some jeans and shove his feet into his trainers and was pulling a T-Shirt over his head when Ron grabbed his arm, hauling him out of the room.

“Come on!”

“What is with you, Ron?”

“It’s your birthday! There’s presents!” Harry simply shook his head. Well of course there was presents he was fairly used to there being presents by now.

“We’re eighteen, Ron, I think a little decorum might be in order?” he said exasperatedly as Ron tried to pull him faster down the stairs. He found himself going slower just to annoy Ron. “Oh wait, I get it, someone’s clearly bought me a big box from Honeydukes, haven’t they? And you can’t wait to get into that.”

“No, no, no, no! Well I think there is a lot of chocolate and stuff there, anyway I already opened the Bertie Botts, oh, er … oh just come ON!” Ron finally succeeded in pulling Harry all the way into the kitchen, whereupon Harry stopped dead.

“Hullo Harry! Happy Birthday!” Hagrid had squeezed his great bulk into The Burrow’s kitchen and was carrying a rather large box.

“Hagrid!” called Harry cheerfully as he made his way across the kitchen (which wasn’t far considering Hagrid was so big he filled most of the kitchen). “It’s good to see you!” As he reached Hagrid the large box was thrust at him.

“Made it meself,” said Hagrid. “Grawp wanted to ‘elp but, well, he’s jus’ not very good with tha’ cookin’.”

“Thanks, Hagrid,” said Harry, opening the box to reveal a lopsided birthday cake. Putting it on the table next to a pile of gaily wrapped presents he threw his arms around Hagrid and braced himself for the reciprocation. As he regained his breath and tested his lung function Harry realised Ron was gesturing wildly and whispering urgently to Hagrid.

“Well, I dunno, Ron,” said Hagrid. “It’s supposed to be here. It were supposed to get’ere tha same time as me, that bein’ the signal an’ all.”

“Stupid Percy,” muttered Ron. “Why did we trust him with it again?” Mrs Weasley who was cooking at the stove gave Ron a sharp look.

“Happy Birthday, Harry dear,” she said as she gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Sit down, sit down, breakfast is nearly ready. Ron, go and get everyone else. I don’t know why everyone is so slow this morning.” As Ron dashed back off up the stairs Hagrid told Harry a little about how Hogwarts was coming along.

“It’ll be in fine shape when you all come back an’ all,” he said. “Good as new an’ ev’rythin’.” Mr Weasley came in through the back door just then and George, Ginny, Hermione and Ron came thundering down the stairs. Mrs Weasley hustled them all to seats and gave them all heaping piles of breakfast. Harry noticed Mr Weasley pulled Mrs Weasley aside and they were having a furious whispered conversation.

“Well, it’s supposed to be here. I don’t know why it isn’t!”

“That was the whole point of using Hermes!” Ginny and Ron kept glancing up to look out the window and Hermione raised an eyebrow at Hagrid who shrugged.

“Er, is everything all right?” asked Harry. “You all seem a little tense.” Hagrid reached out and patted Harry on the shoulder, knocking him off his chair.

“No problems at all, here, have a present,” said George hastily as he hauled him back into his seat and shoved a box from the pile at him. “That one’s from me and F-Ron it’s new stock for school.” Before he could open it the fireplace flared to life and Bill and Fleur came tumbling out.

“Happy Birthday Harry!” said Bill cheerfully. “Did you like your present?” he was hurriedly shushed by the other occupants of the room. Harry looked at them all with a great deal of suspicion.

“I haven’t opened any yet,” he said pointedly. Bill looked confused.

“But Hagrid’s here,” he said. Harry shook his head deciding they were all completely mad. He opened the box in his hands. It was filled with an assortment of Wheezes not all of which were familiar.

“Thanks, George, thanks, Ron!” he said. Hermione handed him another package as George nodded absently and glanced out the window. Harry took the parcel Hermione held out and peered out the window. “What’re we looking for George?”

“Nothing, nothing at all,” said George hastily. “That’s Hermione’s. It’s a book.” Harry rolled his eyes and tore the paper off. He looked at it curiously.

“Hermione, I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but why did you get me a book on broom care when I haven’t got a broom?” Hermione flushed a deep shade of pink.

“Well, you know, you’ll get one soon, won’t you?” said Ron hurriedly plucking another parcel off the pile and thrusting it at him. Harry shook his head resignedly and looked at Ginny but she was engrossed in some sort of silent conversation with her mother that he could not decipher. Shrugging Harry opened the parcel to reveal some Chocolate Frogs from Ginny when the fireplace flared again and Percy stepped out. The room fell even quieter than it had been; which a feat was considering they had all been sitting in tense silence as it was.

“Percy!” his mother hissed at him. “Where is Hermes?”

“Well, Errol showed up!” cried Percy. “It’s like he knew you’d given his job to another owl! He kept pecking me and I had a lot of trouble sending Hermes off.”

“Well, is it coming?” demanded Ron.

“What about the other?” asked Hagrid.

“Any minute now,” hissed Percy, “ah, Harry, many happy returns.” He handed Harry a small package. Harry looked up as he pulled the paper off the gift in his hands.

“Thanks, Percy,” he said before he looked back down. He stared at the item in his hands completely at a loss, his brows drawn in confusion before he shook his head and put it on the table next to the book from Hermione. Ginny reached over and picked it up.

“Percy, why would you get owl treats for someone without an owl?” He knew she didn’t mean it but Ginny’s words were like a knife twisting in his gut and he didn’t hear what excuse, if any, Percy gave her. Ron looked sharply at his sister and Hagrid made a choking noise. Mrs Weasley thrust another package into his hands and he thanked Bill and Fleur gratefully for a nice, normal unpuzzling gift of parchment and quills.

“Not very interesting I know,” apologised Bill. “But you know, practical.” He shrugged and looked pointedly out of the window. Harry resolved to ignore their strange behaviour, there was whispering now, and pulled the last of the packages towards him. Mr and Mrs Weasley had given him a box of Honeydukes chocolate.

“Thanks everyone,” he said but they all ignored him as Hermione, now standing by the window shrieked,

“Here it comes!” Everyone scrambled to the window, except Harry who began to eat his breakfast, firmly resolved to ignore the continuing odd behaviour of his family.

He didn’t get very far as everyone suddenly dived out of the way as two owls came soaring in with an absolutely enormous parcel that they dropped right in his breakfast, spilling his pumpkin juice.

“Happy Birthday Harry!” squealed Ginny, clapping her hands gleefully.

“This is your real present, mate!” crowed Ron gleefully.

“But there was nothing wrong with the other presents,” said Harry.

“Go on! Open it!” urged Mrs Weasley. Harry was about to but he was distracted by the owl that had arrived with Hermes. She wasn’t a particularly large owl but given that she was a Snowy Owl who bore a strong resemblance to Hedwig and had commenced pecking his hand it was not surprising that she caught Harry’s attention.

“Happy Birthday, Harry,” said Hagrid softly as he pulled a large cage out from behind his chair. The owl hopped onto his arm and clawed her way up to his shoulder, nipping him on the ear. Harry unearthed a piece of bacon from underneath the enormous package and gave it to her.

“She’s mine?” he whispered, looking up at Hagrid who nodded.

“She’s only ‘bout a year old. Found a bloke who was inter rescuin’ owls, yeh see,” Hagrid began. “Jus’ over a year ago there were a massive Snowy Owl slaughter. Reckon You-Know-Who was lookin’ to get Hedwig .” Hagrid stopped and sniffed. Harry blinked. “Anyway, the babies are born in May and this bloke found a nest, the mother had been killed and all the lil’ babies didn’ make it, ‘cept o’ course this un. He took her ‘ome an’ hand raised her.” Ginny reached out to stroke the beautiful owl.

“Oh, that’s so sad,” she cried softly. Harry contemplated the bird, orphaned by Voldemort, and could only agree with the next thing Hagrid uttered.

“See ‘n she’s meant ter be yours, Harry,” sniffed Hagrid. The owl had climbed onto Ginny’s arm and she had opened the bag of owl treats (after throwing an apologetic look at Percy) and offered her one. Harry leapt out of his chair and in spite of his earlier remonstrations to Ron about acting their age he threw himself at Hagrid as if he were eleven years old again.

“Thanks, Hagrid,” he murmured into Hagrid’s shoulder (which he could only just reach even though Hagrid was sitting down). Hagrid patted him on the back.

“Yer welcome, Harry, yer welcome.”

“So you knew, hey Perce?” said Ron as Harry surfaced from Hagrid’s embrace. Percy nodded.

“Hagrid brought that owl along with the br-present and suggested they both bring it,” he explained. “That also caused some delay. Hermes, er was a bit too, well, friendly this morning.” Percy blushed and Ron laughed.

”What are you going to call her, Harry?” asked Hermione. Harry watched as Ginny stroked the owl’s head and crooned softly to her. He wondered what Ginny wanted to call her.

“Don’t let her do it!”exclaimed Ron as if he’d read Harry’s mind. “She’s the one who named Pigwidgeon! I’m tellin’ ya mate, don’t let her name your kids without some serious input!”

“But if he lets her name the animals he can get significant naming rights over the kids,” interjected George. Harry just looked at them and shook his head. He reached over and stroked the bird still perched on Ginny’s shoulder and the owl nipped his fingers affectionately.

“What should we call her, Ginny?” he asked softly as the owl hopped over to Harry and leaned over to investigate the cage next to him.

“Liberty,” said Ginny. Harry smiled.

“Perfect.” The two of them stood there petting the snowy owl and Ron made an indistinct noise in his throat.

“If you two have finished being domestic, do you think we could get to the present opening?” he asked pointedly.

“It’s from all of us,” said Mr Weasley. “Go on, open it.” Harry saw the occupants of the kitchen watching him expectantly. He reached out and began to peel off the paper. Ron gave a noise of disgust and tore off a huge piece of the paper covering the parcel.

“Hurry up, Harry!” he said exasperatedly. Harry laughed and together they ripped into the parcel. When the contents were revealed Harry could only stare in astonishment.

“The Gryffindor Captain needs the best broom there is.”

“Even Charlie agreed that’s a Seeker’s broom.”

“See, it comes with its own servicing kit.”

“It’s so shiny!”

“It’s a Firebolt Three!”

“Say something Harry!”

“I … it’s for me?” Harry looked up, his eyes wide. Ginny nodded vigorously. “I … wow … thanks!” Harry breathed. Ron was bouncing up and down, his own broomstick in his hands, his behavior finally explained. Harry should have known only a broomstick could get him acting the way he had been all morning.

“Come on, Harry! Let’s go flying!” Harry looked expectantly at Ginny as he picked the broom up but she shook her head as she handed him a bacon sandwich.

“I’ll see you out there after I help clean up in here. Go with Ron, I’ll put Liberty’s cage away.”

“Come flying with me later?” Ginny nodded and Harry kissed her on the cheek hastily before tearing out the kitchen door after Ron.

He spent the next hour with Ron, flying around The Burrow. They took it in turns to ride the Firebolt Three. It was a magnificent broomstick and responded like it was part of him. Then Ginny had come out to fly and he coaxed her into riding the broom with him. As she slid onto the back of the new broomstick and clasped her arms around his waist he took off and she shrieked as they rocketed towards the clouds. Harry dipped back down and levelled off, flying in circles around the trees in the orchard while Ginny drew lazy circles on his stomach with her fingertips. He could feel her breath on the back of his neck, her legs pressed up against him and that made him very aware of the rise and fall of her chest as it pressed against his back.

He started when he realised Ginny was pressing feather light kisses on his neck and across his shoulders and that her hands had worked their way under his T-Shirt. He flew around two more apple trees and then nearly collided with a pear tree when the feel of her fingertips on his skin made him shiver and lose concentration. He landed softly in the shade of the pear tree and turned in her arms. Wordlessly he wrapped his arms around her, the broomstick still in one hand and began pressing soft kisses along her jaw before capturing her lips in a slow and sensual kiss. He didn’t stop when they heard Ron land right next to them and ask if he could have a go on the Firebolt Three if they were going to snog instead of fly. Harry simply held the broomstick out in the vague direction of Ron’s voice and when it was liberated from his grasp, used his now free hand to run up and down Ginny’s back. They were interrupted by Liberty who landed roughly on Harry’s shoulder, causing him to yelp in pain.

“What was that for, you silly bird?” he cried as he rubbed his shoulder, Liberty having hopped to Ginny’s arm when he yelped.

“Don’t call her silly!” reprimanded Ginny. “She’s just a baby, aren’t you gorgeous girl?” As she began to coo at the owl and stroke her feathers Harry just shook his head and wrapped his arms back around Ginny’s waist from behind, splaying his hands across her tummy. Liberty suddenly took off and they watched her soar back to the house where they noticed Hagrid was leaving. He called out to them.

“Got ter be heading back now! Happy birthday Harry! I’ll see you two back at Hogwarts!” He waved cheerily as he flagged down the Knight Bus at The Burrow’s gate and Harry watched until the Bus took off.

“Are you having a good day, Harry?” asked Ginny softly as Harry rested his chin on her shoulder, watching Liberty swoop around the trees in the orchard.

“Yeah, I am,” he replied. “But then, any day with you is a good day.”

“Flatterer.”

“No, I mean it,” said Harry earnestly. “Being with you just makes me feel good.” George had come out to the orchard and they watched him chase Ron around the trees, the new Firebolt easily eclipsing George’s broom and Liberty swooping between the two of them.

“Flying feels pretty good too,” murmured Ginny. “It feels so different now. It’s like the whole world feels free.”

“That’s because we are,” said Harry, unable to resist pressing a kiss on the soft skin just behind her ear. “Flying is wonderful, and I love the broom. I can’t believe it’s mine … that’d you’d all get it for me. It’s amazing.”

“You should go get it back off Ron, have a real go at it. Go on,” she urged him. “Mum’s not going to let you help with any chores today anyway – go on, go fly.” Harry spent the rest of the morning flying. Liberty joined him occasionally before going off to hunt or swoop on the garden Gnomes which seemed to endlessly fascinate her.

Feeling mischievous Harry would fly past Hermione as she sat reading under one of the trees, going so fast the pages in her book fluttered uncontrollably and he would laugh gleefully as she got flustered and told him off. But he kept doing it and she didn’t stop him.

When Ron and George were called to help set up tables for the party Harry flew in circles around the lawn, doing his best to get in their way and hanging upside down from his broom as he flew alongside giving ‘helpful’ tips on how to levitate the tables and where to put them. Ron called him a silly git and that he’d put the tables wherever he wanted but neither of them told him to stop no matter how many times he messed up their concentration and he’d laugh riotously as he shot away from the havoc he’d created.

Percy, Bill, Fleur and Mr Weasley had gone to work after watching him fly for a few minutes when he first went out but Mrs Weasley was in the kitchen cooking up a storm. When he’d had his fun with Hermione and finished with Ron and George, he flew up to the kitchen window and hovered there until Mrs Weasley opened the window.

“Hello dear,” she said, pushing the window open and the curtains aside. “Are you having fun? Is it a good broomstick? The boys picked it out; I don’t know much about broomsticks you know.” Harry grinned at her.

“It’s great Mrs Weasley! Thanks!” he said. “Did you know that you are the second most beautiful woman here today? And the best cook in the entire world?” Mrs Weasley shook her head at him.

“What do you want, Harry?” she asked. Harry grinned at her some more.

“Are you making treacle tart?”

“Of course I am! Now be off with you before you fall off and into my herb garden!” And Harry soared away his laughter carrying on the air. Harry swooped and dived, Liberty alongside him, and reflected that he’d not felt this free and this happy in quite a long time. Spotting Ginny carrying what looked like decorations out to the garden he soared over to her and hovered only long enough to plant a kiss on her cheek before climbing up into the sky and commencing another circuit of the orchard. He didn’t realise that far below him The Burrow’s occupants were reveling in Harry’s mischief and fun as much as he was, for they had never seen him so carefree and happy and no one was willing to change that no matter how many pages he ruffled or tables he caused to crash to the ground.

People weren’t due to start arriving for Harry’s party until mid afternoon. He’d been shooed from the kitchen by Ginny and Mrs Weasley shortly after lunch and spent the first part of the afternoon with Ron and Hermione down at the pond. The three of them had not spent a lot of time together recently and as they splashed in the pond, soaking up the summer sun Harry was suddenly overcome by the realisation that things were about to change. He stopped throwing water at Ron abruptly and waded over to sit on some rocks near the bank.

“What’s wrong, mate?” asked Ron, following Harry as he hoisted himself onto a smooth, flat rock near the water’s edge. Harry pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and sighed.

“Things are going to be all different,” he explained. “Which is a good thing for lots of reasons, but … well I guess I realised I’m going to miss you … miss us.” He looked at Ron sadly.

“But –“

“Never mind,” he said quickly. “It’s silly of me. You’d think I could get by for a few months without my best mate.” Ron looked at him thoughtfully.

“You’ll still have Hermione.”

“She’s a girl,” Harry grimaced, and Ron laughed. “It’s not the same.” Hermione managed to make her way over to them and Ron hauled her onto the rock beside them. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to sit between his legs, her back resting against his chest.

“George needs me,” he said as he leant his cheek on top of Hermione’s head.

“Yeah, I know.”

“And you’ll have Ginny.”

“She’s a girl too.”

“What’s wrong with girls?” demanded Hermione sharply. Ron laughed.

“Nothing, Hermione,” replied Harry. “It’s just not the same.” Hermione leaned over and put her hand on his arm.

“I know,” she said. The three of them sat companionably in the sun for a long time.

“I don’t think I ever thought this time would come, you know,” said Harry, breaking the stillness. “Growing up, doing different things. I don’t know if it’s because I didn’t think I would get to grow up or it just seemed too far away.”

“Maybe no one ever thinks they are going to grow up? Maybe it’s like this for everyone,” mused Ron.

“Did you ever think of yourself as an adult?” asked Hermione suddenly. “You know, with a job, married, maybe some kids?” Harry shook his head. Ron surprised them both by nodding emphatically. Hermione smiled.

“What did you imagine, Ron?”

“Having a daughter,” he said, leaning back on his hands and tipping his head back to sun his face. “Weasley women are rare but that would make her so much more special. And she’d be smart, heaps smarter than me, like her mum.” He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Hermione then, placing a light kiss on her neck.

“But I always imagined having a son too,” he continued, “one who plays Quidditch. He’s going to be brave and loyal. I reckon he’d be a bit of a troublemaker though. I figure he’d get that from his Uncle Harry.” Ron winked at him and they both stifled laughter as Hermione launched into a spiel about how she would not be at all surprised if his own son got that entirely from him.

“You wouldn’t need Harry’s help to corrupt our son,” she finished exasperatedly. “I am sure you would be quite capable of doing that on your own.”

“Ours, huh?” Ron asked softly and Hermione blushed.

“Yeah,” she admitted shyly, “my imaginary children always had you as their dad.” Harry contemplated leaving them to it as he watched Ron nuzzle the side of Hermione’s neck when suddenly Hermione asked him if he wanted kids.

“Yeah I do,” he said after a moment. “I used to think I didn’t even have a future. I reckon I’ve got one now. Maybe I’ll be an Auror and get married and have some kids. If I had a son, I’d call him James.”

“Who do you reckon he’d look like then?” asked Ron idly as he twirled a strand of Hermione’s hair around his finger.

“Me, I reckon,” said Harry wistfully. “Only maybe he’d have brown eyes like my dad … Everyone could tell him he looks just like his father only with his mother’s eyes … I always thought, you know that you and me’d be Aurors together though. Maybe that’s why I can’t imagine the next year without you. I always thought we’d be together.”

“That’s the sort of thing you say to a girl mate,” snorted Ron. Harry shook his head.

“It’s not like that and you know it!” he protested.

“Yeah I know.” They lapsed into silence again. Harry watched Ron as he trailed his fingers up and down Hermione’s arm and she shivered before leaning into his touch.

“Ginny’s the only girl I trust you know,” said Ron suddenly.

“Huh?”

“With your heart,” said Ron as he averted his eyes to stare over the pond. “No one else is good enough for you.”

“Your mum told me you all thought I was the only one good enough for Ginny,” Harry said softly, staring into the distance.

“That’s true too,” sighed Ron. “But you mean as much to me as she does. And no one loves you like she does, you know. She’s my baby sister – don’t tell her I said that – and she means the world to me. But you do as well. Take care of each other, okay?” Harry nodded.

“We will.”

“It’ll be okay won’t it?” asked Hermione suddenly. “We’ll be okay now?” Harry looked at her, sensing the worry behind her question but it was Ron who answered her.

“Yeah, we’ll be okay now. We’ve been through too much for it all to fall apart now,” he said with authority. “Look after my girls at Hogwarts, Harry.” Harry smiled.

“You can count on it, Ron.”

*******************

The party was a great success, the garden filling up with young people in only a short time and a pile of unexpected presents growing ever higher on one of the tables. Lee and Angelina turned up together with Katie Bell and cornered George. Harry found Katie and George a short time later, behind a tree, looking very much involved. He left them to it, a smile playing across his lips. Neville, Dean and Seamus spent quite some time exclaiming over his new broomstick with Ron but Lavender, Luna and the Patil twins spent more time with Liberty, exclaiming over her. Most of the DA came and a few brought friends. Alicia brought Oliver Wood and they appeared to be very much an item. As he watched Ron and Hermione wandering around fingers entwined and Luna apparently attached to Dean’s hip he began to wonder where Ginny was. Watching Parvati feed Neville some grapes just made him nauseous but it also gave him a longing he knew meant he wanted to see Ginny, be attached to her hip, hold her hand, maybe not so much the grape eating but the involvement behind the tree thing was looking mighty attractive.

He still hadn’t found her amongst the guests when he spotted Cho heading towards him purposefully. He knew it was desperately obvious of him but he began casting about for someone else, anyone else, to talk to as she approached. He did not like the look on her face one little bit. It was predatory. He shoved his hands in his pockets and took a few steps back as she reached him and stretched out a hand, placing it on his chest and reaching up to kiss his cheek. He thought she lingered far too long and had he not been backed up against a table he would have taken another five steps backwards to get away from her. As it was he leaned his torso back as far as he could without toppling over while Cho seemed to be purring at him and asking if he’d had a good birthday. Casting around for an escape he saw Ron laughing at him and shot him a venomous look.

“So, Harry,” Cho purred, “have you had a good day? How does it feel to be eighteen?”

“Yes, it’s been a good day, thanks,” he said, flustered. “I – I feel sort of, well, you know … the same.” He took a step sideways, managing to move out from under her hand. He was disconcerted to find her following him.

“So, what have you been up to?”

‘Ah, well, I … er … flying!” he finally blurted. “New broom.”

“Oh, perhaps you could take me up for a ride then?” she was batting her eyelashes at him. Harry looked around desperately searching for Ginny and found himself near the present table.

“Oh, well can’t … see gotta open these,” he said trying his best to sound authoritative as he seized one of the packages, holding it front of himself like a shield. He could see Ron and Hermione hiding smirks, Neville and Parvati openly grinning and Padma shaking her head as if disgusted. He sent them all pleading looks but they were suddenly busy inspecting shoelaces or fingernails. Harry marched over to Ron, grabbing his arm and pulled him over to the presents.

“Ron is going to help me, aren’t you Ron?” he said, situating Ron between himself and Cho. Managing to stay well away from Cho Harry and Ron opened the pile of gaily wrapped gifts revealing a large stash of chocolates and sweets, several books about Quidditch, an assortment of stationery and a number of items of clothing. Still Ginny was nowhere to be seen and Cho was somehow making her way through the present barrier Harry had erected around himself.

“Do something!” muttered Harry out of the side of his mouth to Ron as she got closer.

“What should I do?” hissed back Ron. “Has she not got the hint?”

“Maybe you should be more direct with her,” said Hermione firmly. Both of them looked at her, horrified, as if this was possibly the least sane course of action on the planet. At that moment Ginny finally appeared and Harry’s heart began fluttering madly about in his chest, banishing any thought of Cho and her unwelcome advances.

She had changed out of the cut off shorts and T-shirt she had been wearing that morning and was now wearing a simple but stunning green dress that seemed to float when she walked. Her feet were bare and her hair had been left lying loose on her shoulders. With his eyes fixed on her as she walked across the lawn Harry did not notice that Cho had finally made it to his side nor did he notice the look on her face when he ignored her and went straight over to Ginny.

“Hi there,” he said as he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. “I was wondering where you were.” Ginny smiled up at him as he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Cho’s been trying to dig her claws into me all afternoon and I don’t know why she won’t take a hint!”

“Oh, well perhaps this will convince her then,” said Ginny with just a hint of mischief in her voice as she reached up and kissed him, winding her hands into his hair and pulling his head closer. Harry did not need any encouragement and he tightened his hold on her waist before he teased her lips open with his tongue.

“Oi!” Harry surfaced and grinned at Ron who simply grinned back at him before inclining his head slightly to the left. Harry twisted to look and saw Cho, an angry look on her face slinking back to the edge of the lawn. Harry smiled and spent the rest of his party with his hand in Ginny’s; stealing quick kisses from her while he ate and talked to his friends.

It was around sunset when Harry caught up with Oliver Wood. The two of them began to talk about his new broomstick and Gryffindor’s prospects for winning the House Cup.

“I have absolutely no idea really,” said Harry. “There was no Quidditch last year, half the previous year’s team was on the run and we have lost our Keeper. I’d say it’s looking pretty dodgy to be honest. We’ve got a partial team who are so out of practice it’s not funny.”

“Yeah but you’ve got that new broom, Harry,” exclaimed Oliver, “and you are a brilliant Seeker. The other team was pretty good at the Memorial match – how many of them will be on the team?”

“I can’t see Neville agreeing to try out, but Dean and Seamus likely will,” mused Harry.

“Demelza and the Beaters will be back too Harry,” interjected Ginny. “If Seamus is any good as a Keeper we’ve got a team right there.”

“Do you reckon Seamus would be any good?” Ginny shrugged and began waving her arms as she got involved in a discussion about the various strengths and weaknesses of the players as she saw it. Ron drifted over and the four of them were soon engaged in a lively discussion about how best to ensure Gryffindor’s Quidditch success that year.

“You’re pretty good yourself, Ginny,” said Oliver when the discussion of the Keeper and Beater positions had been exhausted and they had thrashed out the weak spots on the Chaser’s line up. “Have you ever thought of going professional?” Ginny stared at him.

“Oh mum’d go berserk!” laughed Ron. “Can you imagine it, little Ginny, professional Quidditch star and all the danger that would bring!” His laughter stopped abruptly when he saw her furious face. Harry watched with amusement as Ginny advanced on her older brother who was backing away from her, his face betraying the fact that he was more than a little scared of her.

“Little?” she hissed quietly. Ron shook his head violently.

“Well, that’s just a figure of speech, er, you know because, well … er –“ his eyes pleaded with Harry to say something while Ginny advanced relentlessly.

“You think it’s funny that I could be good enough to play professional Quidditch?”

“No, you’re good enough, absolutely positively good enough,” stammered Ron as he backed into the dessert table, putting his hand right in the middle of a treacle tart. Ginny stopped advancing abruptly and swung back around to face Oliver.

“Thank you for that, Oliver, I may just consider that suggestion seriously,” her eyes narrowed at Harry, “unless anyone else has any objections?” Harry shook his head vehemently.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he smiled. Ginny turned from the ferocious tiger that had advanced on Ron to a soft pussy cat who purred as she wound her way back into Harry’s arms.

“You’re just the best boyfriend ever,” she sighed against his chest and Ron shot Harry a disgusted look and mouthed ‘suck-up’ at him behind Ginny’s back.

Bill and Fleur had returned after work along with Mr Weasley. Percy arrived shortly afterwards, bringing Penelope with him. As the sun set and the lanterns that Ginny had strung up began to glow Mrs Weasley brought out the most enormous cake that Harry had ever seen. Decorated as a Quidditch pitch there were tiny little flyers enchanted to play Quidditch across the top of the cake. Ron and Harry were at first mesmerised by the tiny Quidditch game and began to cheer on the miniscule Gryffindor players as they outmanoeuvred a rather straggly Ravenclaw team. Padma sniffed at it and Cho glowered when the little Ravenclaw Seeker hit the green icing turf but Luna laughed dreamily and began to sing “Weasley is Our King”. Only when Mrs Weasley suggested it was time to cut the cake did Harry see, for the first time, Ron at odds with the prospect of eating. To navigate the impasse Bill conjured up a cardboard pitch and transferred the tiny flyers to a new home. The little match lasted four days before the enchantment wore out and it remained in pride of place on Ron and Harry’s bedroom floor until then.

Someone turned on the WWN, music began pouring out into the warm night and Angelina and Lee began dancing in the middle of the lawn. Laughing, several others followed suit.

“Come on Harry!” Ginny tugged at his hand pulling him towards the group of dancers. Harry shook his head and tried to avoid it but it was no use. He couldn’t deny Ginny anything and he found himself in the middle of the lawn, dancing with Ginny. When a slower, more romantic song came on a short time later he showed no such reluctance in pulling her into his arms and swaying with her on the spot as he peppered her lips with little kisses, dancing one of his hands up and down her spine.

“Have you had a good birthday?”

“Yeah, I have. It’s been almost … magical,” Harry laughed at his own little joke. “I mean a new owl, a new broomstick, hanging out with my best friends, a party, a magnificent cake and time with my best girl. All that’s missing is the fireworks.”

“George was going to do fireworks,” said Ginny softly, not looking at him, “but I asked him not to. I’m sorry. I just … well … last time …” she trailed off uncertainly. Harry looked at her; the sadness in her eyes was palpable. He reached up, putting his fingers on her chin and tilting her face to look at him.

“It’s okay,” he whispered softly. “I understand why you did it. Were you scared?” Wordlessly Ginny nodded. Harry sighed heavily and pulled her in closer. They stood there swaying for a few moments longer, listening to the song fade away. The announcer’s voice came over the wireless then.

“And it’s a very happy birthday today to The-Boy-Who-Lived. Wherever he is I hope he’s having a good time!” Nervous giggles spilled out around the garden, the guests at Harry’s party knowing how much he hated his fame and that particular title but Harry simply threw back his head and laughed, twirling Ginny in his arms now that a new song was playing.

“Let’s risk it,” he whispered to Ginny as he pulled her close again. “Let’s find George and tell him to let the fireworks out!” Pulling on her hand he dragged her over to George and convinced him to set off the fireworks he’d had planned. Harry settled himself on the grass with Ginny in his arms and watched as the first rockets flew into the air with a bang. And when the sky writing sparklers began writing ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY’ in the sky in red and gold and green Harry just hugged her closer and watched as the words faded and wrote themselves over and over again.

As he lowered his head to kiss Ginny’s sweet lips he thought to himself that it had been a very happy birthday indeed.